


uhhhh what if dream couldn't revive tommy ahaha

by Edgar_Allen_No



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Clay | Dream Kills TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Death, Gen, I speedran this, Violence, and dream can't bring him back, based on tommy's latest stream, he doesnt come back, kinda graphic, like the one from today, that's it that's the fic, tommy straight up dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edgar_Allen_No/pseuds/Edgar_Allen_No
Summary: ///// kinda graphic descriptions of violence and blood and minor gore maybe? uhhh there is death and all that so yeah :] /////a "what if Dream couldn't bring Tommy back" fic basically
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	uhhhh what if dream couldn't revive tommy ahaha

**Author's Note:**

> I have speedran this once again

/////

and we had so much fun together  
we knew we'd be friends forever  
and we had so much fun together

/////

“You’re weak, Dream! You couldn’t handle shit so you got yourself a victim complex, yeah? You fucking disgust me!” Tommy screamed in Dream’s face, pressing a hand to his tormenter’s chest and pushing as hard as he could. Dream stumbled into the wall of his prison cell, back bumping into the wall at an uncomfortable angle causing him to let out a frustrated huff. This kid was really getting on his nerves.

Dream settled with giving Tommy a proud stare, “You’re really growing into this villainous role right here, aren’t you, Tommy? What, you got some trauma so now you’re free to bully as you please? That’s not how this works…”

Tommy scoffed, glaring at Dream from the other side of the cell, “Shut the fuck up, just shut up.”

“Why?” Dream questioned, almost as though he was trying to edge the other along until he did something he would regret, “Are you scared of the truth? Scared of what, or rather who you’re becoming? Come on now, Tommy… don’t tell me you don’t think you are strikingly similar to Wilbur.”

Dream waltzed forward, almost getting into Tommy’s personal space, getting as close as he could without Tommy snapping, “I mean, you two are brothers after all… and maybe being the villain is just something that runs in the family.”

Nearly visibly fuming, Tommy’s face contorted into a snarl as he stalked the last step forward until he and Dream were standing directly in front of each other again. Tommy didn’t even say another word he simply went to push Dream back again, clearly angry at what the other was saying, but just too angry to come up with the right word to say how he felt. He was very obviously blinded by something akin to wrath because of what Dream had said, because of what he had made Tommy out to be, because of how he made Tommy think he was becoming the very thing he didn’t want to be.

Dream saw the shove coming. He didn’t block or dodge, instead he reached out a foot and kicked one of Tommy’s knees as hard as he could, causing the boy to stumble and nearly fall. Dream then put a hand on each of Tommy’s shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes as he forced him down onto his knees. Tommy let out a sound of surprised distress.

“You can’t beat me, Tommy!” Dream yelled out loud enough for it to barely echo around their small cell, “I know all of your moves, you can’t fight me! Wilbur taught you everything you know, right? And who do you think taught him? Me, Tommy, I did!” Tommy looked up at Dream with a mixture of all apprehension, terror, and anger. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him, but to be fair neither did Dream. Of course, the older had an idea, he always did. He had a plan and he knew every step, but would it be executed perfectly? Well, that was up for debate.

The first strike hit Tommy’s face, right on the left side of his jaw, and caused him to fall to the floor only to barely catch himself with his hands. The next second he was hit again, Dream had kicked at his arms hard enough to make him fall all the way to the floor. The next kick was to his face again and it probably broke his nose. Dream saw blood begin to drip from Tommy’s nose and a sick sort of satisfaction filled him. He had caused that. He had made Tommy bleed and it felt good. Dream wanted more of that feeling, he wanted to see Tommy bleed until he ran dry and out of blood. That wasn’t to the original plan, but plans change and Dream was okay with this different route because the end result would stay the same.

Dream kept hitting, he kept kicking, he kept beating Tommy until he could nothing but the rush of blood in his ears and the cries and whimpers of pain and pleas for him to stop. Tommy’s tears were so delightful to see as they fell down his face and dripped onto the obsidian floor. And his cries, god, his cries made Dream feel like he was high, like he could do anything and it would be the best decision he’s ever made.

Dream just kept beating Tommy, hitting his shoulders, his stomach, kicking his legs, his head, every body part out and free to hit. The boy screamed underneath him as Dream lowered himself down to the ground, pausing in his relentless attack to cradle Tommy’s head in his hands.

“Oh, Tommy…” he sang with poisoned breath that enveloped the younger and stole the air from his lungs more than being beaten had, “you never really learn to just trust, do you?”

With that final statement, Dream brought each of his hands to the sides of Tommy’s head as scared and pained whimpers filled the air of the prison cell. 

With one fluid motion, he slammed the boy’s head onto the ground as hard as he could. Letting go and letting his hands fall to his sides as he stood up fully, Dream laughed at the steady flow of blood that pooled underneath Tommy’s head and at the way his chest no longer puffed up with air, but stayed fatally still. It was pleasing, in a way, to finally see Tommy dead and not getting up. It was pleasing to see the blood pulse out of the wound on the backside of his head. It was pleasing to watch the life drain out of him so quickly that Dream wasn’t even sure if he got a last breath.

Dream laughed once more, cackling and wheezing into the dead quiet of the cell at just how ridiculous it all was. Of course he would end up having to kill Tommy in order to prove that he could bring people back. Of course the first test run of these abilities was going to be on Tommy. And of course Tommy would die at Dream’s hands because really, what would be a more perfect ending to wrap up their adventures together? Although it wasn’t as though they wouldn’t be making more memories, Tommy was going to come back, Dream was going to revive him. 

Some part of Dream wished he had tried this out with Sapnap or Bad when they had come to visit, but knew they would’ve given much more of a fight than Tommy and overall it would’ve been a much larger hassle.

Dreams sighed as he knelt next to Tommy’s body. He dipped two of his fingers into the blood that surrounded the younger’s head and began to draw out all of the symbols he needed for the ritual. There were no special ingredients, nothing he’d need smuggling into the prison somehow, only the blood of the person that needed to be revived and a series of strange symbols Dream had memorized long ago and had been practicing for years.

A circle here, a half moon there, and a few swirls and curves and then Dream was done and the blood had yet to dry and everything was done. Dream then looked towards Tommy’s still face, not fully relaxed, but not strained. He smoothed a few wrinkled areas, he made sure Tommy’s eyes were closed, and for final effect, Dream dipped his fingers in the blood from the ground again and made a cross on Tommy’s forehead in his own blood and he couldn’t believe it. He was actually gonna do it. He was going to bring back Tommy and everything would be okay, they’d be able to have all the more fun together now that Tommy would believe him about the book. 

Of course, Dream didn’t actually have the book, he hadn’t even touched the book in years. He found it, he studied it, he broke the code for it, he memorized it, he hid it. That way only he could have the knowledge, only he could know how to revive people and he could be the most powerful person on the server again. He could reign over them all, he could be everyone’s favorite person, he could be the main character again.

Dream continued to look down at Tommy’s face, the blood cross dripped slightly down his forehead and looked messy, but it was fine because Tommy would wake up and they’d clean him off and they’d have fun. He should’ve woken up by now though. Dream had done everything right, so why wasn’t he awake? He slaved over those symbols for years until he could decode them and write them in his sleep, he practiced with animals, but never did the whole ritual because he wanted the first time to be special, he wanted it to be a person. Was that his mistake? Had he been too ambitious? If he had just completed the ritual on one of those animals, could he have learned how to succeed, how to do it correctly, because obviously he had done something wrong. Maybe it was his translation, maybe he got one of the symbols wrong, maybe he just didn’t have the power.

Tommy should be awake, he should be alive. But he wasn’t. Dream had messed up, he had killed Tommy and now he had to live with the fact that he wouldn’t be waking up, because not only had Dream hid the book from everyone else, but he had hid it from himself. He had forgotten its location, as he knew he would, and he’d never be able to find it, he made sure nobody ever would be able to.

What was Dream supposed to do now that Tommy was dead?

/////

I don't wanna lose control  
Nothing I can do anymore

/////

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha rip


End file.
